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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280418">Cigarette</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizkopa/pseuds/Vizkopa'>Vizkopa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Reader-Insert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:48:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizkopa/pseuds/Vizkopa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Eustass Kid was like a cigarette. Pretty on the outside, but bad for you through and through.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eustass Kid/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cigarette</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>Your phone chimed from where it was lying face down on the couch beside you. You looked away from the movie on your TV screen and wiped your Dorito-encrusted fingers on your shorts before picking it up look at the text. You immediately put it down again without replying. You didn’t need that shit tonight.</p>
  <p>The phone chimed again and you ignored it, staring determinedly at the TV even though you had lost track of the plot the second you had seen his name pop up on your phone screen.</p>
  <p>Eustass Kid.</p>
  <p>He was like a cigarette. Pretty on the outside, but bad for you through and through. The two of you together were toxic. You were the match to his flame, and when he ignited, you both burned hot and fast until there was nothing left but ashes and dust. </p>
  <p>The phone chimed a third time and you picked it up to silence it, but paused when you caught sight of the latest text message.</p>
  <p>
    <i>Can I come over?</i>
  </p>
  <p>You cursed and almost tipped your corn chips all over the couch as you scrambled to reply.</p>
  <p>
    <i>I’m not home.</i>
  </p>
  <p>The phone lay silent for a long time. You hoped it was a sign he had given up. Then it began to ring incessantly in your hand. Your finger hovered over the accept button for a few long seconds before hitting decline and flinging the phone to the other end of the couch, disgusted with yourself for even considering picking up.</p>
  <p>It continued to ring relentlessly and you threw a pillow on top of it to dissuade yourself from looking. He was bad for you. It didn’t matter how the good the sex was, it wasn’t worth the hurt and the heartache. After a few minutes, the phone finally, blissfully, fell silent.</p>
  <p>It only lasted a few moments, however, because there came a desperate knocking at your door. You almost jumped out of your seat.</p>
  <p>“[Name], are you home?”</p>
  <p>You stayed silent, praying he would leave if he though you might be out.</p>
  <p>“I know you’re in there, I can hear the TV.”</p>
  <p>You sighed and got up to open the door, leaving the chain on so you were forced to look at each other through a crack only a few inches wide. A few inches was all you needed to see he looked absolutely wretched. You could smell the Jack Daniels and Coke on his breath and his amber eyes were bloodshot and laden with purple bags. He looked like he been running his hands through his hair because it hung over his forehead, his trademark goggles around his neck. You ignored the flutter of your heart as it wrenched at the sight.</p>
  <p>“Strike out at the club?” you said coldly.</p>
  <p>“I wanted to see you. No, <i>needed</i> to.”</p>
  <p>“And it was important you had to come all the way here at one in the morning to tell me?”</p>
  <p>“You weren’t answering your phone.”</p>
  <p>“Take a hint, Eustass. I don’t want to talk to you.”</p>
  <p>You made to close the door in his face but he slammed his fist into it, stopping it in place. </p>
  <p>“Please…”</p>
  <p>
    <i>Don’t let him in, [Name].</i>
  </p>
  <p>The voice in your head seemed smaller, less forceful that usual. The defences you’d fought so hard to build up, now crumbling down. </p>
  <p>“I don’t want to make this mistake again. I’ll call you an Uber,” you said.</p>
  <p>He shook his head, more scarlet hair falling into his eyes. He looked like a petulant child. You would have laughed if your nerves were not strung so tightly you felt like you would break if he so much as looked at you the right way.</p>
  <p>“I just want to talk”</p>
  <p>You sigh. He never wanted to ‘just talk’. This was how the cycle always went. He’d come to you playing the remorse card and you’d fall for it every time. He was like a cigarette, an addiction you just couldn’t shake even though you knew it was slowly destroying from the inside out.</p>
  <p>“Fine.”</p>
  <p>He pulled back, letting you shut the door so you could unhook the chain. It would be so easy to just close the door in his face, lock him out forever this time. But even as your hand hovered over the lock, you could never go through with it. You’d keep letting him in, time and time again, and you’d keep making that same series of mistakes until he had consumed every last piece of you. If this was love, then it was a poisonous kind of love, but still you needed it like it was water in an arid wasteland.</p>
  <p>And so you let him in for what you told yourself would be the last time, but you both knew that wasn’t true.</p>
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